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Maxx England


Member

Posted Fri Apr 18th, 2008 1:45pm Post subject: A poem about one of life's simple pleasures
Written a couple of years ago, about a journey from Birmingham to Barmouth. An attempt at alliterative verse and a prayer in the wind that there shall be other petrolhead poets abroad:



Maxx England: trip

So, the boots are on and key clicks in the lock,
Door swings, daylight on bars and saddle.
Roll the beast backwards and sidestand down.

Door locked and load the bag on the back,
Swing into the seat and flick to run.
A hundred and half a hundred miles to the coast.

The twin rumbles behind raked out forks,
Feet forward to the rests, hands wide to the grips.
One mile to the first fuel, air, check the bag.

And away, local roads to the back of nowhere,
With houses washed with long history.
Back to trickle through suburban traffic now.

Toward the tourist trap, stay inside the limit,
Right at the Golden Cross and let it loose.
Green tree tunnel, tarmac ribbon, yahoo slalom.

Roll it on, racket under you, shut off for the bend,
Pour the coals back on, surge forward, heart sings.
Gears and levers, tilt till your boots chamfer.

Feel the rhythm and the groove of the ride,
Bugs spraying on the helmet, V twin heaven.
Softly through the little town and on.

The A road, cloaked in fields and brokers’ cottages,
Black and white half timbered wealth.
Run to the front at the roadworks queue.

On and roll and on and roll and roll, roll, roll,
Swing and run and charge the remembered way.
And thunder pouring from open pipes.

Around the civil war city, in the beyond now,
Road curves and climbs towards the border.
Thirsty. Pull in for tea on high on a hill.

Off and now and north, fuel light showing,
Turn off the A to fill the futile little tank.
Away again to chase miles and the journey’s end.

Left! See that sign beckoning, here’s the turn,
Road narrows and now a new slalom meander.
The tunnel, the tube starts to close in again.

The highway snakes up and down and rise and dip,
Bike wanders, lurches on lost damping.
And endless tunnel, funnel, channel, green and grey.

Big shop on the left over the hill then swing right,
The border line changes road sign language.
Araf! Pergyl! Miltir, foreign unfamiliar.

Twin thunder echoes everlasting from the banks,
Road steeper, sharper then straight and back.
Names on the map become known places.

Here’s the big climb, stone walls clench the road,
Car struggling as the iron heart hauls.
Backwheel spin slide curve launch past the hatchback.

Top of the world, high and wild, grass and sun.
By farms, by fields, by farriers.
Thundering descent into an ancient town.

Out again, hurrying through the stone edged hills,
Mind knowing nothing but motion.
The warning light laments another dry tank.

Friendly gravity leads to petrol, benzin, gasoline,
Down a drink, walk, straighten legs.
And know the pain of a thinly padded seat.

Final leg, last miles by a river to meet up,
Now surf and salt, coast road and beach.
And into the seaside town of Kiss-Me-Quick hats.

Round the last, ultimate, final, corner, bend,
Over the café wall waved welcome.
Pull in, press kill, subside.

The only way is forward. Now where's the bar?

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James


Member

Posted Wed May 28th, 2008 4:26am Post subject: A poem about one of life's simple pleasures
I love your honesty. Your ability to express yourself is the most important ability of all... You got high marks from me, sir. Your form sucks, your grammar sucks. Even your syntax sucks at various points.

Not worth a mention usually, but this is me. You are one of the rare few who can show your soul through the medium of words and, even rarer, your soul seems to be worth looking at.

Re-do your GCSE English, rewrite this post. You have something rather remarkable here, sir. A completely pointless thing made an art. I've seen it before, and rightly so.

- JM

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Loc


Member

Posted Sat May 31st, 2008 3:36pm Post subject: A poem about one of life's simple pleasures
James, you harsh bitch. If write with correct grammer, ya not writting from the heart.

Loved the poem. My life is a cage, but on a bike I'm free.

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Maxx England


Member

Posted Fri Jun 13th, 2008 4:44pm Post subject: A poem about one of life's simple pleasures
Form? Grammar? Syntax? No matey James, this is real English.

Loc: tilt, scrape, lift, open, grin

The only way is forward. Now where's the bar?

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Maxx England


Member

Posted Mon Jun 16th, 2008 11:00am Post subject: A poem about one of life's simple pleasures
James, I'm going to ask the question - you ever been out there on a bike? Felt the wind and the rain, seen the road like a ribbon dragging you forwards? Felt alive with the nearness of everything?

GCSE? I'll do that one for the first time when I think it's important. Trust me, stuff the exams unless there's some positive reason for them, get out and live while you've got the strength and breath to do it, because you're a long time in that box afterwards.

The only way is forward. Now where's the bar?

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TobiasMonk


Moderator

Posted Sun Jul 6th, 2008 6:03pm Post subject: A poem about one of life's simple pleasures
I like it much Maxx, and I can relate to it. Thank you sir.

I cannot be awake for nothing looks to me as it did before, Or else I am awake for the first time, and all before has been a mean sleep.
Walt Whitman

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maitland


Member

Posted Sun Oct 12th, 2008 12:39pm Post subject: A poem about one of life's simple pleasures
.... James sounds slightly drunk. Wth is up with 'sir'. I found it really, really boring... You lost me on the first stanza and when I skipped to the last stanza, there wasn't any change. partly because you keep naming outward things and words without challenging their meaning.
This isn't 'real' english, whatever that means, and is not used to a good effect. Your grammar with quick comas and long syllabled words and spaces contradict each other. You lose the audience's attention on the second line. And it might of worked if it wasn't a boring string of cliques.

Besides its not 'life's simple pleasures' it your personal notation of cliques.
You were incredibly cocky to some criticism.

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Maxx England


Member

Posted Thu Oct 16th, 2008 8:10pm Post subject: A poem about one of life's simple pleasures
I don't normally rise to the bait, but on this occasion I will. The story is of a motorcycle ride I once did. The other riders here like it, they know the references and the feelings involved, and fully understand the story.

I surmise that you have never ridden anything more powerful than a skateboard and have never done anything more daring than drink 2 day old milk. Go away and come back when you have the miles under your belt, the scarred elbows and the scuffed leathers.

TIT

The only way is forward. Now where's the bar?

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maitland


Member

Posted Mon Oct 20th, 2008 2:21pm Post subject: A poem about one of life's simple pleasures
Um... so I shall succumb to your "bait" now shall I - Fish-er-bikie-man? I fully respect your "bikie 'toughness'" - what I was referring to is your poem. And your manner of If you're satisfied with it. Well done. I'm glad with you. I'm also glad that other people have had the privilege of enjoying it.

I was also referring to some of the response and your response to James' comments. However he will dispute it himself now, not I. hereby I end this topic for further usage by me.

- In point of fact - I have done a great amount of things more wise and rewarding than - purposely scarring my elbows and ripping bits of leather and dragging belts around for miles - all this so "I can boast to people on the internet - who are usually the kind who will be forced to listen out of sheer boredom - so I can prove to people how 'powerful' I am in a certain way."

x

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Anonymous


Unregistered

Posted Tue Oct 21st, 2008 2:04pm Post subject: A poem about one of life's simple pleasures
Road movies/poems are great


chris

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Maxx England


Member

Posted Wed Oct 29th, 2008 10:28pm Post subject: A poem about one of life's simple pleasures

- In point of fact - I have done a great amount of things more wise and rewarding than - purposely scarring my elbows and ripping bits of leather and dragging belts around for miles - all this so "I can boast to people on the internet - who are usually the kind who will be forced to listen out of sheer boredom - so I can prove to people how 'powerful' I am in a certain way."

x

Not boasting, just pointing out I've done the real thing, same as some of the others here. Powerful in a certain way? No, just offended by things people say when they have no valid practical experience of the subject.

My last comment on it is this:

I suggest that you have either hatched already, or are metamorphosing into that most unpleasant and dangerous of all predators, the Mincing Suit.

Have a nice day.

The only way is forward. Now where's the bar?

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